


The Witch in the Woods

by canadduh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Amnesia, Amnesiac Castiel (Supernatural), Cursed Castiel, Curses, Fluff, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, PBExchangeFairyTale, Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Fairy Tale, Witch Dean Winchester, Witch Lisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 00:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadduh/pseuds/canadduh
Summary: If you had asked Dean what his favorite color was three months ago, he would have said green. Green like the plants that surround his cottage, green like the grass and the leaves. Green like the blanket his mom gifted him on his first birthday, which he keeps in the chest under his bed.Now, however, his favorite color is blue.Or, the one where Dean is a witch and Cas literally kicks his way into Dean's life.





	The Witch in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Ghost_Writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ghost_Writer/gifts).



> A thing I wrote for the Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Fairy Tales for The_Ghost_Writer
> 
> Huge shout out to [MaggieMaybe160](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160) for beta-ing this fic and putting up with my shit. 
> 
> Also for giving me the motivation to just sit down and finish this. 
> 
> [The Profound Bond Discord](https://discord.gg/bERVdTk) is where exchanges like this one and so much more happen!

If you had asked Dean what his favorite color was three months ago, he would have said green. Green like the plants that surround his cottage, green like the grass and the leaves. Green like the blanket his mom gifted him on his first birthday, which he keeps in the chest under his bed.

Now, however, his favorite color is blue.

Blue like the sky and blueberries in the mountain. Blue like the color he feels when he’s at peace. He doesn’t know how to describe the specific shade, but he sees it every time he closes his eyes

It's been two weeks since Dean last saw Castiel and he’s beginning to worry.

**Three Months Ago:**

Dean opens the door leading to his garden and sighs at the sight of Plant, his familiar and an idiot of a squirrel, sitting in the compost _again._ He doesn’t know why the squirrel insists on it, but at this point, Dean has nearly perfected the spell that gets rid of the stench, so he’s mostly okay with it.

“Plant,” Dean groans and the squirrel skitters over to Dean in the hopes of a treat. Dean gives in even as he scolds the creature, “You know I hate it when you do that.”

He picks up Plant and settles him on his shoulder before filling his watering can with water and getting to work. Most of the time, Dean spells the can to water while he works on something else, but it’s a Sunday so Dean does the work himself, since he has time.

Humming to himself Dean moves on from the plants to the bees that inhabit the hives just beyond his fence. They were his mom’s, as was the cottage. Dean, despite not liking honey or bees in particular, cares for them well. He doesn’t like to imagine what his mother would say when he joins her in the afterlife if he didn’t.

Once his chores outside are done, Dean returns to the small cottage and begins on his potions for the day. With Plant by his side, the magic part comes easier and he’s already got each mixture memorized, so the process isn’t something he has to focus on.

He lets his mind wander which is why he doesn’t hear anything at the door until it gets kicked in and suddenly there’s a man with a knife in his kitchen and splinters of wood surrounding Dean. They lie in a three-foot circle around him, none of them having hit his body. He may have not been paying attention, but he’s not going to let that stop him from protecting his own body.

“Who are you?” Dean asks, eyeing the man cautiously, allowing Plant to run up his arm and grip onto his hair. He narrows his eyes, “And why would you kick my door in?”

The other man glares at him, “You weren’t answering.”

Dean huffs out a breath, “And that gives you the right to kick my door in? That’s pretty rude, man. What if I wasn’t home?”

“Then I could investigate,” the man answers with a shrug, “but since you’re here I can just ask you questions.”

“Could you put the knife down, at least?” Dean requests. “Plant doesn’t really like ‘em. Probably since I nearly cut his foot off with one during a miscast.”

“Plant?” The man tilts his head and, no, Dean does not find it adorable. The man is clearly a hunter and _has a knife_. He’s not allowed to be adorable.

“This guy,” Dean says, letting the squirrel rub his head on Dean’s hand. “He’s not as smart as he looks.”

“You have a squirrel,” the man says, the knife hand lowering to his side, “on your head.”

“Yes,” Dean agrees slowly, ‘cause obviously, the other man is going into shock. “He’s my familiar.”

“You’re a white witch.”

“That’s just racist,” Dean grumbles. He’s tired of this old system of identifying witches. “We prefer ‘natural born witch’.”

“Yes, of course. My apologies.” The hunter actually _blushes_ and looks away. “I apologize for your door as well.”

Dean shrugs and waves a hand. There’s a creaking sound from outside that has the hunter spinning in time to see vines weave into the doorway, growing to create another door in place of the old one. Dean nods his approval before returning his attention to the other man.

“Why are you here?” Dean asks, picking up his now ruined potion and draining it out the window. He sets the pot down on the stove and throws another log into the flame. “And who are you?”

“There’s a witch killing people in my village.”

“And?” Dean prompts when the hunter leaves it at that. “That makes me a suspect?”

“Generally, yes.”

“Just cause I’m a witch?” Dean’s mouth drops at how stupid that sounds. Okay, not entirely stupid, but that doesn’t mean he isn't offended. “That’s kinda rude, man.”

“Apologies.”

Dean blinks twice at the man before huffing out a breath. “Whatever, just... What’s your name, man?”

“Castiel.”

“The hunter,” Dean says in surprise. He didn’t expect Castiel Novak to be in the neighboring village. “When did you settle down in Grenville?”

“I was born there,” Castiel informs, sheathing the knife into its place at his side. “I went away for training for a few years, but I’m back.”

“Got yourself famous, too,” Dean points out, shifting Plant from his head to his shoulder and pouring out a glass of water for him and the hunter. “Did you really kill an entire pack of werewolves with a toothpick?”

“What?” Castiel’s head shoots up from where he’s eyeing the herbs Dean is using cautiously like they might reach out and turn him into a door, same as the vines earlier.

“Kidding, kidding. The rumor is you did it with an ax.”

**Now**

Since the day Cas had kicked down Dean’s door and entered his life, not a week has gone by that the witch hadn’t seen the hunter at least three times. Once Cas had had a taste of the honey Dean sells, the blue-eyed man just couldn’t stay away.

It helps that Dean’s skilled at healing magic with a specialty is protection charms. Dean has patched Cas up after a few hunts and made him several different charms. He’s working on something more permanent for the hunter, but magic like that takes time and trust.

When three weeks have passed and Dean still hasn’t heard from Castiel, he takes matters into his own hands. Dean calls on his brother, Sam, and asks him to check in on the cottage while Dean goes to make sure that Castiel is okay.

Sam only agrees when Dean offers him free access to the herb garden for the remainder of the year.

Dean could easily take a boat across the lake like he knows Cas does, but he does not like boats. Instead, Dean goes to Sam’s stable and saddles up Baby, his mare. In exchange for protecting the village, Dean was given the horse and he has Sam stable her because he hasn’t had time to build a shelter for her yet.

“Be cautious,” Sam urges once Dean is mounted, Plant resting on the saddle bag behind him. “From what I’ve heard, the killings have not stopped.”

“Which is why I’m going,” Dean reminds his overprotective younger brother. “I need to know that Cas is okay.”

“You must love this Cas guy if you’re willing to leave the village.”

“He’s a friend.”

“Whom you love.”

“There are at least eight types of love, Sam,” Dean reminds his brother.

“Go save your boyfriend,” Sam teases, hitting Baby on the rear to get the horse moving.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dean protests, but he doesn’t turn around.

***

The view of the lake is stunning from all sides. The wind sends gentle ripples across the water. Branches hang low like they’re sharing secrets with the fish. Dean remembers summers spent on the shore, cutting through the water and watching the sunset around a fire. He remembers laughter and scraped knees. This lake has been his home for longer than he can remember.

He doesn’t rush Baby, as much as he yearns to because the terrain is rough and hilly even though there is a path. The sun shines through the trees and Dean soaks it in. He keeps an eye on Plant, who is jumping from branch to branch and tree to tree above Dean’s head.

The journey to Cas’ village takes a quarter of a day on horseback, twice as long as a boat on the lake and Dean appreciates Cas all the more for his effort in seeing Dean so often. It could simply be that something happened to Cas’ boat, but he knows in his soul that it’s not that.

In the village, Dean finds an inn and leaves Baby in the stable after paying for three nights. He charms Baby’s stall against all but him and the stable boy before leaving. He won’t risk his beloved Baby when someone’s already killing people in the village.

He’s been to a village a couple of times over the years, so he’s not entirely lost, but he doesn’t know where Cas lives. When he asks the innkeeper where Cas might be, he’s directed to a building near the center of town.

Apparently, in the past couple weeks, Cas has given up hunting and settled down to help with the upkeep of the village. Dean doesn’t know what would’ve led Cas to this, but it only makes him worry more.

When he’d asked Cas about his hunting plans the man had told Dean his retirement plan was dying on the job. Dean had not been pleased with that response but he’d accepted the answer anyways.

The building that Dean had been pointed to is much larger than he’d anticipated. Clearly, it was the villages meeting hall with one large room full of tables and chairs with a few smaller rooms for the more personal meetings and community activities.

“Cas,” Dean says when he spots the dark-haired man sitting at a table near the front of the room, hunched over with his hands in his hair.

“Hello,” Cas greets, lifting his blue eyes to look at Dean.

Dean expects some sort of reaction; pleasure, excitement, guilt even, but when nothing happens he can’t help the flash of hurt he feels.

“Sorry, do I know you?” Cas asks. The lack of recognition in his eyes sends Dean reeling.

Dean takes a step back, prepared to flee to his home and lick his wounds when Cas jumps up and grabs his arms. Dean startles and loses his footing, sending both witch and hunter sprawling on the floor, Cas on top of Dean.

“Sorry,” Cas apologizes. “You just looked  like you were going to leave and I… I’m not sure why but I couldn’t let that happen.”

Dean nods, unsure what to do with Cas’ elbow digging into his ribs and knee into his thigh. He feels winded for more than one reason and Cas’ blue eyes look brighter from this close.

“Apologies,” Cas says, seemingly unaffected as he stands, reaching out a hand to help Dean up.

Dean brushes himself off and avoids eye contact as he gathers his thoughts. He doesn’t know what happened to Cas, but he doubts its good.

“Was there something you needed?” Cas asks after an uncomfortable period of silence. He tilts his head in that way that has become so familiar to Dean that he feels an ache of longing even though Cas is standing right in front of him.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you in weeks, man. I was, ah...” Dean swallows. He’s not one for emotional moments, but he needs to be truthful. “I was worried.”

He watches as Cas’ eyes widen in understanding, then he starts apologizing and each word threatens to rip Dean’s heart out.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are.” Cas runs his hands through his already messy hair and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t seem to remember anything recently. The past three months are just… gone?”

“You… I… What?”

Dean’s mind kicks into overdrive and he has to sit down before his knees give out. Cas, his best friend, doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t know how to reconcile this knowledge, but he needs to know if there’s something, anything, he can do about it.

“How?”

Cas shakes his head apologetically. “I don’t know.”

Dean doesn't know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says after a moment. Dean looks up at him, green eyes wide and almost pleading. He needs this to not be true. “Who are you, exactly?

There’s a beat of telling silence as the air leaves the room. “I’m Dean,” he responds. His heart stutters as he looks into blue eyes that no longer know who he is. “We’re… friends.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry for your loss.” Cas turns his back on Dean like he didn’t just shatter his entire world and leaves him sitting alone, surrounded by the too cluttered space. It’s stifling in this room with this man who has no memory of him.  

“Thanks,” Dean says dumbly, his tongue thick. With a heavy heart, he quickly leaves the meeting hall and retreats back to the inn. He doesn’t return to his room, but instead joins Baby in her stall, taking comfort in the presence of his friend.

***

Dean rides Baby through the woods that surround the village. He can’t bring himself to leave but doesn’t know if he has the resolve to stay either. A voice in his head tells him to cut his losses and return to the comfort of his cottage, but his heart is screaming for him to stay.

He doesn’t realize where he is until Baby stops unbidden in a clearing with a hawthorn tree in the middle. Plant climbs onto his shoulder from his place in Baby’s saddle bag and Dean greets his familiar with a scratch on his chin.

“Thanks, guys,” Dean acknowledges their part in bringing him here and then dismounts. He grabs what he needs from the saddle bag and sends Plant in search of dry twigs and leaves to use for the spell.

He lets Baby roam free in the clearing and set his bag down under the branches of the hawthorn. Dean leans his forehead against the tree and smiles gently. He’s careful of the tree’s thorns but does not begrudge its protection.

Once a small flame is lit in a bowl, Dean unstops a container of cedarwood oil and pours a small amount into the flame before adding a sprig of dried lavender. Ground lemon comes next and Dean lets the ingredients burn as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

The night air is crisp as he lets it fill his lungs. With each breath he releases Dean can feel his turmoil settle. He lets the sounds of the forest flow around him as he begins to chant the incantation that will help him find the balance he needs.

“I pray for peace in heart and mind,

May tranquil vibrations within me align,

A serenity surrounds me at this time,

Giving me a gift of serenity sublime.”

Dean repeats the spell as he meditates with a familiar hum of power flowing through him. He feels stable when he opens his eye minutes later and smiles serenely at Plant, who is laying in Dean’s lap.

“Thank you,” Dean says with a nod of his head.

The cleanup doesn’t take very long and soon, Dean is guiding Baby through the forest. Plant sits in Dean’s usual spot on the saddle. The walk back to the inn is over quick with the light of the moon guiding his steps. Dean brushes Baby thoroughly and leaves her in the stable with fresh hay to munch on. He redoes the protection charm on her stall door before making his way back to his own room.

By the time sleep claims him, Dean knows how he can help Cas and get his friend back.

***

Dean is a witch, not a hunter, but he’s worked with several hunters over the years. He knows where he needs to start, but he still hesitates to seek Cas out again. Dean may have come to terms with that fact that his best friend doesn’t remember him, but it still hurts.

He finds out where Cas lives from an old woman at the small garden in the center of the village.

When Cas answers the door with a monster of a cat in his arms, Dean doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Plant leans forward to regard the tougher animal, gripping Dean’s hair to keep his balance.

“This must be Fluffy,” Dean says, smiling fondly at the cat he’s heard so many stories about.

“Dean,” Cas breathes. For a moment hope fills Dean and his eyes snap to look at the man. When he’s met with polite confusion, Dean lets out a disappointed breath and stands up straighter. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to figure out what happened to you, man. But I kinda need your help to do that.” Dean explains, running his hand down his face. Dean refuses to look at Cas as he waits for a response.

The silence stretches so long that Dean is forced to look to make sure Cas hasn’t shut the door on him. Instead, blue eyes regard Dean with an intensity that nearly has Dean blushing.

“Okay,” Cas says a moment later, stepping back into his house and gesturing for Dean to come in.

The inside of Cas’ house is exactly how Dean imagined it would be. The main room is tidy, but filled with items that Cas might have needed for his hunts. Various rock salts line one of the windowsills in little glass jars and draw Dean’s attention as they sparkle in the sunlight.

Dean’s hands itch to flip through the lore books on the shelves lining the wall. He yearns to see the way Cas uses the space when he’s comfortable, cleaning his gear at the table in the corner or reading through a tome on the comfy couch. Instead, Cas stands rigid in the middle of the room, clearly unsure about what to do now.

“You kicked in my door,” Dean says suddenly, stupidly, but it does what he intended and Cas turns to look at him. “The first time we met, you came to my house and kicked in my door.”

“Why did I do that?” Cas asks, his shoulders relaxing as his eyes drag over Dean. The look he give Dean is almost recognition but mostly confusion and it makes Dean squirm. He misses his hunter.

“Honestly? I still don’t know,” Dean shrugs off his longing and smirks at Cas. “You didn’t even knock.”

“That is… Rather rude of me.” Cas says. He looks around the room as if suddenly remembering where he is. “Apologies, Dean. Would you like to sit down?”

“Sure, Cas,” Dean smiles. He sits on the couch that Cas gestures to and sighs, sinking into the cushions. “Damn, Cas. This couch is awesome.”

Cas smiles indulgently and sits on the opposite end of the couch, angling himself to look at Dean.

“Are you a hunter?”

“No.” Dean doesn’t know where Cas stands on witches right now, but he figures it’s better to be honest about it now. “I’m a witch.”

“A witch,” Cas repeats and Dean watches in horror as Cas closes off from him. His expression turns turns hard and he stands up forcefully, glaring at Dean. “Why would I ever befriend a witch? What do you really want?”

“What do I really want?” Dean asks, standing so he doesn’t have to look up at Cas while he hides the pain coursing through him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest as his breaths become ragged.

He steps closer to Cas, using his extra two inches of height to his advantage. Dean has always used anger to mask his pain and really, why would this time be any different?

“What I really want, Castiel, is to help _my friend_ figure out what happened to him. What I _want_ , Castiel, is to stop the witches that have been murdering _innocent people._ Witches that you’ve been too busy doing fucking paperwork to stop.” He loses steam when he sees Cas wince and rub his forehead. “I just want my friend back, Cas. Please.”

Dean watches in horror as Cas goes pale and staggers back before falling onto the couch. The hunter’s eyes are closed and his face his tight with pain. Dean falls to his knees beside Cas, gripping Cas’ hand and holding it firmly between his own.

“Cas?” Dean feels his heart lodge in his throat when he gets no response. “Castiel? Hey, what’s wrong? Cas, buddy?”

“Dean,” Cas rasps, grabbing onto Dean’s arm with the hand not in his grip, “Dean.”

Dean doesn’t know who moved first, but Cas’ lips are on his and Dean lets go of his hand in order to cup his jaw. The kiss feels electric and perfect. Cas’ lips are dry and chapped and as soft as Dean imagined they would be.

“Dean,” Cas gasps as he pulls back to rest his forehead against Dean’s. They breathe together and exchange kisses small, soft and easy.

“Cas. What’s wrong?” Dean pulls back when he tastes salt on Cas’ lips to see tears running down Cas’ face.

“I… I forgot you.” Blue eyes stare into green, the recognition that had been missing suddenly present. Dean feels like Cas is seeing into his soul. “You’re the love of my life and I forgot you.”

“Oh.” Dean can’t help but smile and pull Cas in for another kiss, lips meeting lips in perfect harmony.

“Cas, what happened?” Dean asks when he’s had the chance to catch his breath.

“The witch,” Cas explains in his gruff voice that Dean just wants to soak in. “I found her lair three weeks ago and was about to confront her when I got caught up in her spell. I don’t think it was intentional, but she was attempting to erase her own memories and erased mine instead.”

“Fucking witches, man.”

“Dean, you’re a witch.”

“I’m a natural witch, Cas,” Dean argues. “There’s a clear difference. What happened next?”

“Next, I woke up with no memories of the last four months. It felt like a piece of my soul was missing, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes, understanding dawning on him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, Dean,” Cas smiles gently and it’s everything Dean needed to see. “We’re soulmates.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Cas repeats, the smile slipping from his lips.

Dean’s eyes widen in realization. “No, no, no. Not that. That’s fucking _awesome,_ Cas. But the witch. I know who did it.”

“Who?”

“Lisa. She’s… uh… This woman I dated a couple years back. She lives in the village. She was interested in witchcraft and I broke up with her when it became all we’d talk about.” Dean pauses, gauging Cas’ reaction, but the hunter simply smiles at him. “Anyway, Lisa met her soulmate after we broke up, but things didn’t work out between them. I don’t remember the guy’s name, but I bet he was the first death.”

“Oh, I understand,” Cas says smiling, “she was trying to forget her soulmate. But why kill him first?”

“Revenge? I don’t know, Cas,” Dean stands up, “but we should probably make sure she’s not going to hurt anyone else.”

“Okay,” Cas agrees, standing up and grabbing Dean’s hand, pulling the witch to him, much to Dean’s confusion, “but first…”

Dean grins when Cas kisses him. Dean pulls Cas closer as he feels the last of his unease fade away, knowing he will always have his soulmate, his hunter, at his side.

“Okay, we can go hunt the witch now.” Cas grins, pulling away from Dean and grabbing a green bag from beside the couch.

“You’re unfair,” Dean pouts. He follows Cas out the door anyway, smiling when Plant joins them outside.

***

“Who the fuck has a lair in a cave, Cas?” Dean demands, glaring at the damp space around them as another drop of cold water hits his forehead. He holds the glowing charm they’re using for light higher, blocking more water from hitting him.

“Well, she wasn’t at her house and this is where I found her last time.” Cas shrugs and continues deeper into the cave. “It’s not too much further.”

The caves aren’t far outside the village, and Dean has to admit that they’re an easy place to hide, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

“It’s like she’s trying to prove every stereotype about witches being dark, evil, creatures.” Dean frowns as his feet step on something squishy. He shudders and tries not to think about what it could possibly be. “How do we even know she’s in here?”

“We don’t.”

“You brought me into a nasty, dark cave on a _hunch?_ Dammit, Cas, I have tracking spells!”

“Dean,” Cas stops, grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling him to a stop,“are you okay?”

Dean takes a deep stabilizing breath and nods at the hunter. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t like dark places with slimy shit on the floor.”

“It’s not much further, Dean,” Cas promises, squeezing Dean’s hand and before continuing on. Dean smiles down at their intertwined fingers and doesn’t complain anymore.

The cavern they find Lisa in is larger than Dean thought it would be. It’s too dark for him to see how high the ceiling is, but the cavern could easily fit three of his cottages. Lisa stands in the middle of the floor, a circle of candles surrounding her.

Dean notices Lisa’s son in the corner of the cave and moves to him, ignoring Cas’ questioning look. When Dean was dating Lisa he always enjoyed spending time with Ben and he regrets that they lost contact in the last couple of years.

“Hey, bud,” Dean greets when Ben flings himself into Dean’s arms. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Dean,” Cas calls from where he’s eyeing Lisa warily. “Get the kid out of here.”

“Okay,” Dean calls back. He grabs Ben’s hand and takes Ben out of the caves and into the forest where Plant is waiting for them.

“Plant!” The boy greets enthusiastically, letting Plant curl up in his arms.

Dean watches for a moment with a smile before focusing on the cave entrance, willing Cas to come back soon. He doesn’t like leaving Cas in there alone, but he likes the idea of witnessing Lisa die even less.

Soon, Dean spots Cas leaving the caves and runs to him, needing to make sure he’s okay. He doesn’t think that he could handle it if Cas forgot him again.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asks, his eyes scanning his hunter for any signs of injury.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas says tiredly. “Let’s go home.”

 

**Three Months Later**

 

If you had asked Dean what a peaceful day looked like six months ago, he would have said it looked like a day where he didn’t have to leave his garden. The sound of bees around the hives, the smell of flowers in the air, and the taste of a good cup of tea.

Now, however, a peaceful day is waking up to Cas.

It’s teaching Ben how to harvest herbs for a new spell. It’s the sound of laughter when Plant steals the bread off of Dean’s plate.

A peaceful day is blue, the color of Cas’ eyes, the color Dean feels when he’s at peace.  

**_~END~_ **


End file.
